


Back To Central City (Chapter 18)

by liquidheartbeats



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Broken Hearts, F/M, Lots of Angst, Poor Barry, Poor Iris, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:17:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidheartbeats/pseuds/liquidheartbeats
Summary: Barry wonders whether or not his meeting with Patty has put his relationship with Iris in jeopardy. Iris makes a hard decision about their future.Now including the very lengthy sex scene I didn't include in the first go-round, plus a different ending.





	Back To Central City (Chapter 18)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people. I added in the sex scene I didn't want to write the first time, and revised the ending of the chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Barry lowered his phone from his ear. His face contorted into a frown. Iris had missed three calls in a row, which wouldn’t have worried him, but given her for talent for ignoring him when she was angry, it did.

He readied himself to dial her a fourth time, the hope that he was just assuming the worst, dwindling as he pressed each number.

Still nothing.

He stepped down off of his front porch, considering whether or not he’d do more harm by popping in on her at The West home when a text from her end came through.

“Not feeling well. Call you tomorrow-goodnight.”

Two choppy sentences, not denoted by a single emoji. Yeah, she was definitely pissed at him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. How had a day that started off nearly perfect end so badly?

His front door creaked open, cutting into his thoughts. He turned to see Patty standing in the doorway. “You’re still here?”

His eyes immediately shot to her cleavage, which was on full display in the nightgown she’d changed into. It was a stark change to the clothes that she’d worn during the duration of their talk. “Yeah,” he said voice rattled, “I was just leaving. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. This is your home.”

“Technically, yes. But-“

“Something wrong?” She cut in, brows arched.

“No.”

Patty tilted her head like she was trying to find the truth behind his eyes.

“What?”

“You don’t look like nothing’s wrong. Is this about Iris?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. It was a rather transparent lie, but his issues with Iris, real or imagined, were theirs alone to work through.

She frowned.

‘I’m really okay. About to head home now." He forced a weak smile, then prepared to speed off, but stopped when Patty spoke again.

“Wait.”

When he turned, Patty was drawing closer on the porch. It was a casual stride but given her attire, he felt it better if he put some space between them.

“Patty, it’s late,” he said, voice even as possible. The talk they’d had pushed them one single baby step forward on their path to an amicable divorce, only for their progress to set him and Iris back a number of steps he wouldn’t find out until he could talk to her.

And he wouldn’t let it be for nothing.

“I know, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For?”

“For letting me say my peace. I still hate that it’s come to this, but it was nice to talk things out without screaming at each other. It’s the first time in a long time I’ve felt like I mattered to you.”

Barry lowered his head, more guilt bubbling through him. “I’m sorry,” he said, gaze returning up to her. “I never wanted you to feel like you didn’t matter. And yeah, it was nice to talk to the Patty I’ve known for two years again.”

“I know that. Now.” She followed her words with a cheerful smile, one that didn’t fit the mood in the atmosphere. It melted into one of an amorous nature. One that caught Barry off guard. Reaching up to stroke his face, she continued, “You can’t control who you fall for.”

Barry pressed his eyes shut, the frigid guilt burrowing its way deeper inside of him. Even after everything they'd been through, she still was holding out hope that he would come back to her. “No, you can’t,” he said, placing his hand over his own, before gently lowering it from his face. “But I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

Nonchalance lived in the hump of her shoulders. “Yeah, well can’t change the past.”

“No, but I can try to do better in the future. Speaking of which, I’ll call you in a couple of days, okay?”

“Right,” Patty said, slightly crestfallen. “Got to schedule a meeting with the mediator. Get our finances and stuff order.” The attitude that he’d grown to associate with Patty returned to her voice, but not enough to set off his alarms.

“Yeah, but also…we’re friends, right?” He said, with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah...friends,” she smiled sadly.

Uncomfortable silence flowed between them. It was so hard to find that delicate balance between cordial and mortal enemies. Hopefully, things would get easier as time went on.

“Goodnight, Patty,” Barry said a beat later, before speeding off into the darkness.

“Goodnight, Bar...ry.’’

* * *

* * *

 

The next moment, Barry was laid flat in his bed, still dressed in his clothes, eyes fixed up towards the ceiling. Everything he knew about Iris—this new Iris, at least, told him that she was pissed at him.

And as much as he wanted to pop in on her, and explain just how necessary his talk with Patty had been, but also how much being away from her only made him miss their time together, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate that.

It wouldn’t matter that he had not the intentions of Scott, she would only interpret it as him overstepping the parameters she’d set for herself. And he didn’t want her to ever see him in the same light she saw Scott.

There was also the fact that he’d already betrayed her trust on a massive scale. She’d forgiven him, eventually, but not before he thought he’d almost lost her again. And he didn’t think that he was strong enough to go through that again, especially not after knowing the depth of her love for him, feeling her body on his, hearing her lustful cries.

If he wanted them to work, he had to proceed with caution.

Everything about their relationship was delicate, and not just in the sweet, romanticized way teenagers view love. Not that it wasn’t sweet or romantic, it was. But for as intense and pure as his love for Iris was, and always had been, it had never been enough to keep her with him.

It hadn’t been enough to keep her from marrying Scott, or even him from thinking he could build a life with Patty. And now, he had her, but they had real obstacles preventing them from nurturing that love into something solid. Sound. Permanent. Something he knew would be there, no matter what the future held. And as much as he wanted to say otherwise, he couldn’t say that he was yet sure of that.

God, he needed to talk to her so badly. That’s the only thing that could give him any sense of peace. He rolled over onto his side, and scooped his phone up, ready to call her up. But he stopped himself when he noticed how late it was.

She was probably already asleep.

He threw the phone back down, and returned to his spot on the bed, tears clouding his eyes. The only thing keeping him from not breaking down completely was remembering how sweetly she’d told him she loved him earlier on the phone. That they had a tomorrow together.

That was only a few hours ago. Perhaps he was overreacting. But then again, she'd canceled not only their night together, but their check-in phone call.

He sighed, accepting that the only option left was to get some sleep until sunrise. The mere thought inspired a strong yawn to overtake him. Then an even stronger one, a clear-cut signal that he was just as drained physically as he was emotionally.

Maybe sleep is what he needed.

* * *

* * *

 

It was barely two am when Barry woke a few hours later. He’d managed to quiet his conflicting emotions long enough to drift off, but his sleep hadn’t soothed him the way it would have, after a bad day out in the field.

Or some other minor problem.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could quell the pain that festered inside of him when he and Iris weren’t on good terms. And now that he was awake, that same worry that had nearly consumed him, continued its journey throughout his body.

Needing something to distract him, he picked up his phone with the intent to pass the time on Facebook or some other mind-numbing site. But, to his surprise, a missed called from Iris, made less than 15 minutes ago, was sitting at the top of his notifications.

He shot up, his fingers racing to dial her back, only to be met with her dial tone. She’d left no corresponding text, telling him what she’d wanted, so maybe she’d fallen back asleep. Or, perhaps she hadn’t meant to call him.

None of that mattered at this moment. He was up on his feet, and outside of Iris’s bedroom before his phone even hit the surface of his bedside table.

Barry raised a gentle hand to her door and knocked so that he wouldn’t wake the rest of the floor. You could hear a pin drop in the West home this time of morning. He waited a moment, but there was no response on her end.

He thought about texting her, or calling again, but realized he’d left his phone back at STAR Labs. “Fuck,” he muttered quietly to himself, as he turned, preparing to head back to his place.

Just as her door left his line of vision, he saw the tiniest crack in it. One that widened once Iris saw that it was him. “Leaving so soon?” She asked, stood there, in fuzzy pajamas, still the image of absolute beauty.

“So you did mean to call?” He asked, a hopeful smile on his face, as he surveying the one lining her beautiful face. One that showed not the anger he was expecting.

“I did,” she nodded, in a way that suggested that wasn’t sure of her answer. Still, she stepped back, beckoning him inside.

Relief surged up through his body. He nearly tripped, as he accepted her invitation. Over the threshold, he closed the door. When he turned, the smile on her face that had given him momentary peace had cracked into one more pained. Even in the dim light of her room, he could see that she was dangerously close to crying.

He stepped towards her. “Iris, What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” She said surprise in her voice.

“You look sad.”

“Oh, I just have a lot on my mind,” she said, sniffling.

 _About us?_ “Do you want to talk about it?”

She started to speak but caught her tongue trapped the words somewhere between her teeth. A sharp head turn followed. “Nope,” she said, taking in a breath.

Barry scrunched up his face. “Are you sure?”

She nodded slowly.

“Then why’d you call me?”

“I missed you,” she said as if she wished she didn’t miss him. Like those words were in opposition with everything she felt on the inside.

If he didn’t miss her so much, he would have called her on it.

Before he could, she filled the silence with, “And I figured, you could come over and sleep with me.”

“Just sleep?” He asked, testing the energy between them.

“Yes,” she said, curt, stepping closer to him, though the way she slinked her hands inside of her jacket suggested she didn’t believe her own words.

He cocked his head, attempting to read her, but the “My father and his wife are two doors down,” as her hands worked tirelessly to remove him from his blazer caused his face to fall.

Their sex life may have been in its infancy, but now that he knew the full extent of what it meant to have her, and how unsure he’d been feeling, he craved that intimacy between them.

“What?”

“But I need you,” he said, uncaring at the sense of urgency in his voice. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed you.”

“Barr.” Her voice broke, and she tried to turn away from him.

“Please,” he said, pulling a firm hand around her waist.

* * *

* * *

 

 _Please_. Good God did that word, from this man she loved more than she knew she had the capacity to love anymore—especially after five years with Scott—slice through every single doomed version of their future she’d conjured up over the last few hours.

The one where they would never be happy, or safe. Where even when they had a private moment, she didn’t know if Scott would be on their trail or not.

Where just being in her proximity put Barry in danger.

 _Please._ So full of need, of longing, as his piercing green eyes threatened to look directly through her, into her soul. A please, accompanied by a pull that had her now pressed body to body against him. The force of which caused a sharp gasp to slip from her.

He took advantage of the part of her lips and leaned down to kiss her. Everything in her told her that she should pull away, but she just couldn't bring herself to.

How selfish, she thought, as his determined tongue pried her rigid lips further open, as he palmed the back of her head. With each lap of the tongue, her resolve to fight him weakened, and it was no time before her tongue had joined his, in a kiss too sweet to describe.

She wanted to laugh at the fact that she thought that she could spend one last night with him, but deny him physical contact. Deny herself of him, in every sense of the word. But she had not the ability to scrounge up the faintest laugh, now that Scott had popped back up in her life.

All this time in Central City, the threat of him returning to take what she had left of her life, loomed angrily in the air, but tonight’s meeting at Jitter’s confirmed to her that she would never be free of him, never safe enough to openly love Barry the way she wanted, or he needed. Which meant that he would never be free to be who he was around her.

Even then, in the earliest morning hours, as running, into danger, or anywhere that took him away from her, was the furthest thing on his mind, she could feel the rustle of electricity in his veins. It stirred quietly underneath the surface of his skin, ready for some outward stimuli to put all of that power to good use.

It was an inseparable part of him, ingrained just as much as his selflessness for those around him. It even reverberated through his vocal cords.

Like the godforsaken, “Please,” that had set her back ten steps.

She broke their kiss as if it would help give her strength she needed to walk away from him, a foolish thought if she’d ever had one. Hurting Barry in the past had tested her emotional fortitude in ways she been unprepared for, and still hadn’t recovered from.

This time would be no easier, but perhaps she thought that the strength she’d regained could be the variable in this difficult equation. But how could she be strong when the man who made her weak, in every single way, was standing in front of her, begging her to bed him, not just because his flesh ached for their union, but his heart did?

“God,” she said, tilting her head away from him. “We can’t do this here,” she drawled, as his hands slid down her body, outlining her curves. It was an excuse, a way out.

“Then come home with me,” he offered returning and open mouth to her ear, then slinking it down to her neck. “I need to be on top of you." Kiss. "Up under you…" Kiss. "Inside of you.” And it was those words which caused her legs to nearly give way.

“I need you to make love to me,” he pressed on in her silence, voice laden with pain, of which she wasn’t sure of the source. Probably her flippancy. Probably all the hurt and pain of the past, their issues in the present, and hints of an uncertain future all mixed together.

“Barry, please," she said, eyes pressed shut.

He brought a hand underneath a chin, forcing her to look at him. She bit her lip, returning his longing gaze, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

“And I need…” his voice gritted, “To know that you still love me,” he said, thumbing away the moisture from her face.

“Of, course I still love you,” she whimpered, unable to let that question float idly in the air. No matter what the future held for them, those were words that would always be true. “I love you more than anything.”

“Then why are you crying?” He asked, voice thick with concern.

“Why are you?” She said, noticing the sparkle in his own eyes, though his voice had long given away what he was feeling.

There was silence on his end, and she took it as a chance to escape. She stepped back from him, not actually expecting him to let her get away. Sure enough, he skipped past offering more pleas, instead opting to attack her mouth again, this time more ravenous than the time before.

Slow and methodically, he paced them back to her bed, her legs betraying her with each step. When she felt the side of the bed pressed against her from behind, she sighed.

There was nowhere else to go, but down.

Before she knew it, he had her on her back completely at his mercy, though the last will she had left to leave slipped away when the moonlight pouring in through her window mixed with the forest green sparkle of his eyes.

With a soft sigh, she relented, finally accepting that she needed him just as badly as he did her. “We have to be quiet,” she warned, though the look he directed at her told her that he knew those words were more for herself than him.

“I love you so much,” he said, a slight chuckle dancing in his voice. He didn’t give her time to respond, instead, pushing her shirt up past her breasts, leaving behind a trail of soft kisses up her stomach, and back down again.

She squirmed as he feasted on her flesh, the need for him to direct his kisses to a lower body part building more with each kiss. He slanted her a flirtatious glance, before tugging at the waistband of her pajamas. Her pants and panties were gone in a snap, the only thing covering her nakedness now, his ravishing tongue, lapping up and down her wet folds, sweeping up her juices with each procession.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, as she rocked her hips in sync with his motions. He’d only just started, but there was no way she’d be able to hold out like this —especially not when his own muffled moans rang out, as he licked her towards orgasm, her pleasure obviously fueling his own.

“Bar, Oh God, Bar,” she whined, but he was unrelenting. The more she cried, the stronger his suction on her clit became until she couldn’t hold out any longer, violently crossing that line of ecstasy, as the only thing that kept her in place was the firm grip he had on her thighs.

Her body shuddered from head to toe, her head still flopping wildly, as she crawled his way up her, reclaiming her mouth in his. She brought her hands up, palming the back of his head, as they kissed, immediately tasting his hard work, her juices, on his tongue, though it wasn’t nearly as prominent as the heavy bulge that rested on her thigh.

Iris slid her hand down, grazing it over his seam-popping erection, which he promptly ground into her palm. Still, she needed more. She brought her other hand down to undo his zipper, releasing his manhood from his pants at once, the tip of which was already slick with his pre-cum. She squeezed him gently, hoping to draw out more of it. His tongue slipped from her mouth, bringing an end to the sound of smacking mouths. Latched now onto her neck, forceful kisses along her collarbone muffled the groans emanating deep from within his core.

Even in his moment of need, his self-control was miles ahead of her own, as he thrust small circles into her open palm, keeping steady with her rhythm, but not exceeding it. “Need you,” he drawled, though, sometime later, like he was on the cusp of orgasming right into her hand.

“To?” She asked, knowing damn well what he needed, but absolutely loving the desperation, and longing in his voice.

“Fuck me,” he growled, louder this time.

She smiled, the urgency in his voice, cutting through her even more than the ‘please’ sometime earlier. She released him at once, for at this moment, she would be whatever he needed. His best friend, his lover, his everything.

If only she could be that for the rest of his life.

She pushed down her gloomy thoughts, and focused on them, this moment and his need. He looked down at her like he could see the brief shadow cast over her face before she refocused herself, but he didn’t say anything, for there was a more dire objective at hand. He rid himself of the rest of his clothes, and Iris took the moment to settle down back underneath him, parting her legs from him, a seductive smile replacing the look of uncertainty before. She smiled even larger when he returned to her, his strong hands pushing her thighs apart, wider, as wide as they could possibly go, then, dragged her body down further onto the bed.

Iris let out a squeal, not prepared for the forcefulness, but absolutely loving the way he handled her. Still, she couldn’t resist that “We have to be qu-,” that slipped only partially from her lips, before he slipped inside of her, no lead up.

She gasped, her body eagerly swallowing up every single inch of him, until he bottomed out. “Fuck,” she spit out, into the crook of his neck. In all of the years, she’d had to fantasize about fucking Barry she’d never anticipated him filling her up the way he did. And even now, the third time their bodies merged into one, she was still getting used to it.

“Hush,” he grunted, as he propped himself up above her, relishing at being inside of her again.

Iris pursed her lips but didn’t fight it, knowing she’d better save her energy for the task at hand, letting her lover fuck her until his heart ached no more until hers didn’t either. Slowly, he pulled himself out of her, the sensation of her ironclad grip on his cock, superseding his desire to chide her.

He pressed his eyes shut, just as tightly as his hands dug themselves into her thighs. She was so wet, wetter than he’d ever experienced before, and she’d absolutely soaked him the first time they’d made love.

“Gotdamn, Iris,” he moaned, as bucking his hips downward back into her. “So good, so good. So good.” Each one brought on a quicker thrust, that brought him closer and closer to the edge. One that threatened to make her lose every single ounce of control she had left.

“Yes, baby, fuck me, fuck” she moaned, into his shoulder, trying her best to keep from screaming his name at the top of her lungs. Not that it mattered, as creaks of her bed springs, trying to absorb the impact of their dalliance, had surely given them away.

“Barr-,” she moaned halfway out of her mind, but still cognitive of the fact they were in her father’s house.

“So close. So…got-damn…clooseeee,” he groaned knowingly, increasing the pace of his thrust until his body stalled inside of her, intense vibrations ricocheting from the base of his cock, pinging every single nerve in the region.

Iris caught up in her own pleasure, pulled him close to her, cradling him as he overflowed her cunt with his hot seed. And when his thrusts became just as erratic as his whimpers, she grazed her fingernails over the muscles in his back, hoping that this moment between them would create wonderful memories for him—and her—no matter what morning brought.

* * *

* * *

 

Iris’s 8:30 alarm clock jolted Barry awake. He leaned over, and hit the snooze button. He turned back towards where Iris was supposed to be, but frowned when he was met with an empty bed. He was halfway out the door before he remembered that this was not his home, and that he was half naked, memories from their passionate night flooding his brain.

He peeked out of the door, trying to gauge whether or not the bathroom would be clear, especially of Joe West. Having an affair with daughter of the man who’d raised him was one thing, but having sex with her in the room she grew up, while he slept two doors down, was a new level of bold.

He knew they'd crossed a line, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could have kept him from Iris last night.

Barry smiled when he remembered that Joe and Cecile had an early call time at CCPN, which meant they'd probably just missed them. A short trip in and out of the bedroom preceded him, before dressing himself. When he made it to the kitchen, Iris was already downstairs, pouring herself a glass of OJ.

She was fully dressed, in athleisure—a black tank, and pink leggings which put the curves that drove him wild on full display. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. For a moment, her body was as malleable as hot putty, against his. He tightened his grip and kissed the side of her neck. “You know I could get used to this?”

“What?” She asked, adoration inflected in her tone.

“Our life together, once we have our own house. A nice passionate night, a private breakfast together?”

Iris sighed, causing Barry to frown.

"What?"

“It’s a little soon to be thinking about our own house, isn’t it?” she asked, easing herself out of his grasp. Once free, she headed around the counter to the toaster and removed two perfectly browned pieces of toast and sat them each on a plate.

“Not to me. I mean, you’re not allowed to make big purchases until after your divorce is finalized, but, yeah. After the wedding, of course.”

“Oh, did you propose or something?” Iris asked, digging around in the utility drawer for a butter knife.” Cause I missed that part.”

“Well, no, not yet. But I figured we’ve already done everything out of order. We could at least wait until after the divorces were finalized,” he said with a laugh.

She responded with a half-hearted chuckle.

“So, what are you plans for today?” He changed subjects, realizing she was clearly not amused.

“Well, I have some errands.”

“Great," he clapped. "I’ll join you. With my speed, we should be done early enough to—"

“No!” She screeched.

“Why?” He asked brows narrowed.

“I...don’t...know, actually.”

“Don’t you want to spend time together?” He asked, leaning over the counter.

She leaned back away from him, continuing to butter her bread.

“Don’t you?”

Iris sighed. “We spent plenty of time together last night.”

“And it was amazing." He said, tugging gently at her shirt. She smirked to herself, but refused to make eye contact.  "But I do value you outside of the bedroom, you know?” He stood up straight, then went to her, around the counter. "We could go to the movies, out to eat. We could go sit in the park for 10 hours, and I’d be content. Don’t you want to do that?”

Barry returned his hand to Iris’s waist, but she moved it.

He scoffed. “What is going on with you?”

She shifted, so she was facing him. “Why must something be going on with me? Just because I don’t want to drag you along to the bank and the dry cleaners?”

“Well, for starters, it's my first day back in Central City, full time, and you don’t seem to care.”

She sighed, then turned her attention to the half-peeled banana on the counter. “What do you want me to do? Throw you a party?” She asked as she started to chop it into little bite-sized pieces.

Confusion marred his face. “No, I just….you were pretty excited the other day.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Okay, what about tomorrow?” He offered.

“I kinda have somewhere to be.”

“Where? You have like a four-hour shift and you don’t have court this week.”

“Or at all.”

“Come again?”

“I’m dropping my case,” she said, voice muted.

“Why would you drop your case? Especially when you were so pumped?”

She humped her shoulders, conveniently pivoting away from him, as she answered, “Doesn’t really matter. I’ve already made my decision.”

“Yes it does,” he said, flashing to the spot in front of her.

“Must you use you speed even in the house?" she yelled, finger raised.

He scrunched up his face. "Wow, now my speed is bothering you? You really are pissed at me."

The look on his face softened the scowl on hers. "Barry, I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed out."

He simpered on her face for a moment, before replying, "Want to talk about it?"

“No, it doesn’t matter.”

“How can it not matter?” He asked, attempting to step into her. To comfort her through whatever was going on.

She sighed, cocking her head to the side.

“Answer me, Iris.”

“God, can you chill out for once in your life?”

“Chill out?!” He yelled, offense reverberating through every single syllable. “Maybe I could if you stopped playing ping pong with my heart.”

Iris let her weight fall back against the counter, arms folded across her chest. He couldn't tell whether she was angry, sad, or a little bit of both, but it infuriated him. She didn’t have to deal with whatever this was alone. She didn’t have to shut him out.

“You ignored my calls," he continued, "then sent me a two-sentence text. Then you called me hours later, and we had the most passionate sex we’ve had thus far--"

"Oh wow," Cecile said, making a u-turn out of the kitchen, horrified at what she'd walked in on.

Barry palmed his forehead in his hand. He hadn't even heard her come through the door.

"Cecile, wait," Iris called to her. Not exactly that distraction she needed to get out of this conversation, but dammit she would take what she could get.

"No, it's fine. I'll eat the lunch I forgot for dinner. I'll grab donuts or something for breakfast!" she yelled back, already half-way out of the door.

Iris sighed, lowering her head. "Barry, I have to go." She attempted to turn to leave, But stopped her.

"Not until you tell me what's going on with you. I barely keep up with your moods."

Iris rolled her eyes. “Excuse me for not having the same mood 24/7. It changes, just like everything else. I mean, look at you and Patty. You couldn’t talk civilly for months, but last night you did. And I assume it went well?”

Barry scoffed, incredulously. “So this _is_ about my meeting with Patty?”

Since she clearly wasn’t about to leave without an unwanted fight, Iris turned back towards the counter and resumed working on their breakfast. It was all she could do to keep everything she was feeling inside, safe, where her problems with Scott didn't become his.

The silence between them was drowned out only by her frantic chopping.

“Iris, I had to talk to her,” he pushed on. “It’s the only way we’re ever going to be able to move forward with our divorce. And honestly, with how abruptly I left her, she deserved an evening to get her feelings out.”

“I know Barry, okay?” She said, though it had bothered her at the time. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Well then, why would you bring that up if you aren’t mad?”

“Because you don’t know how to let anything go! I know you love me, but I don’t want to talk through every single bad mood. Sometimes, I need space.”

“Space?” The word came out light a feather, like he was afraid putting weight to it, would make it real. “You need space from me? After what we shared?”

He was on the verge of tears, and she was glad that her back was to him.

“I need space…to think,” she said, as gently as she could. “You were right about me needing time to myself,” she added, hoping that would ease the blow.

“Bullshit.”

Iris grimaced.

“I had to beg you to take that weekend,” he started off, slow. “Two mornings ago, you were all over me. And Last night, you cannot tell me,” he said, voice breaking, "that what we shared wasn’t real.”

“It was definitely real,” she whined, “But… I have a lot going on right now.”

“And you think you can’t share it with me?” He asked, pressing his body against hers. His hands went to her waist, and his head rested on the back of her shoulder. “You can talk to me about anything.”

A harsh cry escaped Iris’s lips, as she stood there. Realizing her hands were shaking, she dropped the knife onto the cutting board, dropping her head right along with it.

“Baby, what is going on with you?” He asked, rubbing up and down the sides of her arms, before guiding her body around to his.

Eye to eye, he frowned when he saw the tears on her face glistening underneath the kitchen lights. “Talk to me, Iris.”

“I-I,” she said, attempting to think up an excuse. But all she came up with was, “I can’t.”

"Iris, please don’t do this. We’ve come so far,” he said, exasperated.  “And I don’t know if I can go- God, never mind. “Barry shook his head to himself, a nervous laugh dancing on his lips. He stepped back away from her, anger in his stance. “I shouldn’t have to tap into some deep emotional wounds or relive the hell you put me through for four fucking years, to get you to understand that your actions affect me. “

“Oh, Barr-“

“Don’t Barr me, right now,” he said, voice tight.

Iris choked back her sobs, which rippled out from her, over and over until she finally managed a thin, scraggly, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want an apology! I want you to share with me whatever the hell has changed your attitude towards me in 12 hours. I just want to be close to you, Iris. ”

When she didn’t answer, he lowered his head, fiddling nervously with his fingers. “But it’s clear that you don’t want that,” he closed out, voice etched in pain.

 He gave her one final chance to open up to him, but her continued silence was the loudest answer she could have given him. He sighed, continuing to move backwards, further and further away from her, until she was left alone in the kitchen, and soon the house as well.

 


End file.
